Wake Me From These Nightmares
by ShimmerGlimmerCloverx
Summary: Katniss relives the Games every night and the nightmares are getting too intense to handle alone. Gale wants to comfort her and understand her pain, but will she let him break down her newly built walls or will their relationship crumble instead? She questions if there's more than friendship between them, will his efforts to help bring them closer or send her to confide in Peeta?
1. Chapter 1- Haunted

**Note: This is my first fanfiction, I hope it does the story and characters of thg justice! Please review with either praise or constructive criticism, it would mean a lot! I'll update tomorrow with a longer Chapter, it'll have Gale and maybe some Peeta in it. This chapter is just introducing the story, I hope everyone likes it! Thanks for reading! **

Chapter 1: Haunted

"**It's not like it used to be before, when we could tell each other anything. The Games have spoiled even that. I keep hoping that as time passes we'll regain the ease between us, but part of me knows it's futile. There's no going back."- Katniss, Catching Fire**

Eight weeks. It's been eight weeks since I returned from the Games. I only know this because it's the eighth Sunday I've spent in District 12, the one day I get to spend completely with Gale. It feels different. I didn't expect for life to go back to normal in a matter of weeks, hell, I don't expect life to _ever _go back to normal. What _is_ normal, anyway? I can't even remember. School, hunting, trading at The Hob… It seems like a lifetime ago. But the main thing that's different is my relationship with Gale. No, my _friendship_ with him. It's nothing more than friendship. But if that was true I wonder why I have to reassure myself that we're_ 'just friends' _every time I think of him or look at him…

We used to share everything, from food to secret thoughts and everything in between. But we've both been avoiding the difficult subject of The Hunger Games entirely. He's sensed I don't want to talk about it or even think about it. But I know we can't avoid it forever. _I _certainly can't, anyway. I relive it every night. Sweet little Rue. How she died in my arms. If I'd only been there a second earlier, if only I'd had the sense to lead her away from the meadow. It seemed so comforting and safe. But it was the worst place to be. It was the wrong place to be. This brings me to the boy from District 1, Marvel. Little did he know he was in the wrong place, too. I killed him without a second thought. I ended his life, like he ended Rue's. Without a thought, without a word, without regret. It haunts me now. But I don't regret it. I never will. I hardly had an option, did I? It's kill or be killed.

Glimmer's once glittering green eyes are now piercing, glaring at me every night. They were once sparkling with hope, energy and determination. Now she's in my nightmares giggling as the trackers jackers sting me countless times. Clove cuts up every limb, every inch of my body every night. Sometimes they tear me up in their mutt forms, sometimes it's in their human forms they torment me. I relive the Feast sometimes, but Cato always kills Thresh right in front of me before he can be close enough to do me any good by killing Clove. Instead of Clove screaming for Cato, it's me screaming for Peeta. Sometimes I scream for Gale. Last night, Gale came for me, but Cato cut him apart as I watched, Clove's sickening cackle almost drowning out my desperate screaming and pleading.

That brings me to Cato. His death haunts me the most. Sometimes he throws Peeta and I to the mutts. Usually, though we fight him until I have to look the poor, tormented soul and monster of a boy in the eye and send the arrow to his hand, watch him fall and listen to the mutts tear him apart for hours on end; knowing full and well that his suffering is not only at the bloody hands of the Capitol, of President Snow, but more directly at my hand. Even though he attempted to strangle me to death and appeared to be enjoying it, even though he had it out for me since the beginning, since I upstaged and outscored him- even though he'd have been proud to end my very existence and extinguish my flames and erase whatever legacy I had for the whole of Panem to see… He was a boy. A boy that only realised how the Capitol had manipulated and destroyed him, robbed him of a childhood and robbed him of a life that never was his own to live, when it was too late. When it was too late for him and the rest of them. I suppose he redeemed himself just a little from his insane sounding but nevertheless heartfelt speech before I… I killed him. He was just a naïve, albeit slightly insane, disturbed and maybe even twisted boy underneath and behind it all and he was a boy that I killed.

I wonder if it had ended differently, if any of the Careers had won instead of Peeta and I, which seemed more than likely- in fact, almost certain to happen, I wonder if they'd have been haunted every night by everyone they'd killed. Everyone they'd killed and laughed about killing later. I wonder if they'd have been haunted by how they killed me, like I'm haunted by how I killed them…


	2. Chapter 2- Heartbreak

**A/N: Thanks so much for the review Ashray4, me too, I think you'll like this chapter, there's lots of Gale in it. This got 62 views and only one review, please can at least two more people review this time if you want me to continue it? I wouldn't call this a filler chapter as it's really, really important to the story. It's her nightmare from last night that she mentioned in the previous chapter, except it's not exactly how she originally described it, not exactly. I think it's a lot better. I hope you're not disappointed everyone, there'll be a proper conversation between Katniss and Gale and maybe Peeta, too, in the next chapter. There's some Clato in here too, please review, favourite and follow! x**

Chapter 2: Heartbreak

I grab Peeta's medicine in the bag, and sense an attacker before turning around. I instinctively have my arrow ready to fly at my attacker, thankfully the twisted, seemingly psychotic little girl with the knives. She's only a year younger than me, but small enough to look a lot younger. It just makes that evil grin plastered on her face nearly every time I see here even more unsettling, if the knives and psychotic tendencies aren't creepy enough. Not creepy, terrifying

Anyway, I ready my next arrow, the first one only grazing her shoulder._**Damn, I never got her throwing arm. **_She briefly surveys the severity of the wound and yanks the arrow carelessly out of the edge of her shoulder. This gives me time to aim my next shot, I had my next arrow ready without even thinking about it. Something only an experienced hunter such as myself would do automatically. But I hear a cannon go off in the distance. It sounds wrong._**Peeta. **_My instincts tell me it was Peeta…

Suddenly, the air is knocked completely out of my lungs. She's taken advantage of my distraction and I mentally curse myself and Peeta. I still hope to God it wasn't him. But why? Why should I care if it's simply an act for the cameras? Does that mean it's something more to me than I realised up until now?

I don't have time to think about the possibly dead Boy with the Bread any longer. Clove smiles, her giggle sends shivers down my spine and since she's much smaller than me I think I can push her off without too much effort. I'm wrong. She's brawny, and surprisingly strong. She just laughs more at my pathetic and now desperate attempts to unseat her and possibly roll her over using her own weight against her. Clove punches me right on the nose, I can't suppress a cry of surprise and pain when I hear a sickening *crack* and taste my own blood in my mouth. This only amuses the disturbed little psycho more. She throws my bow at least 15 feet away, my quiver of arrows too.

"What's wrong, twelve? Think Lover Boy finally got what was coming to him? Awww, I'm sure he thought of you in his final moments, as he begged Cato for his worthless little life. But not as this pathetic, defeated, **broken** little girl. No, as the Girl on Fire of course!" she laughed. "Has your flame finally burned out? Looks like his just did. You're five seconds of fame have expired, I'm afraid. Don't worry, I'll make your death even more memorable than your little fire girl get up."

A shiver runs up my spine. That last part was extremely unsettling, terrifying, even. But then I remember the one word that stood out._**Broken. **_I am not broken. Certainly not by Clove, or Cato, or anybody else for that matter. "You will never break me!" Rage surges through me. I spit up into her face, and find the strength to reach up and punch her. Hard. She let's out a small cry before glaring at me, all amusement erased from her features. No, nothing but hatred, sheer hatred is in her eyes. I hide my fear by glaring right back up at her. "Looks like I still have some spark, more than you ever have anyway."

She starts wildly slashing at my chest and shoulders and arms before I can react, obviously planning to work her way up. I can't supress my screams, and they're loud, too. The pain burns, ironically since I was once the Girl on Fire. It's worse than the burns from a week ago. The most intense pain I've ever felt.

Suddenly, Thresh bursts through the bushes into the clearing. Before he can act, though, with that deadly machete in his grip, Cato appears and sends the sword right through his heart. His cannon fires off abruptly. My heart is pounding, even though I've been in this nightmare many times before. But Peeta always comes. I have a feeling he won't, this time. But I don't even call for him, I have no desire to, which surprises me. There's only one name in my head. And it's not Peeta._ "__**GALE!" **_I scream at the top of my lungs._**"GALE! GALE HELP! GALE SAVE ME! GA-" **_Clove jams her fist into my windpipe with brutal force for a girl of her size, very effectively cutting off my screams. I hear them both laughing. It's sickening. The smile it brings to their faces. They were just humouring me, allowing me to go on with my frantic screams just long enough to make me and everyone else watching realise I_ am_ _broken._They have _broke_ me.

"Wow, Girl on Fire, who knew you were just a pathetic, weak, useless, broken little girl?" Cato approaches us. There it is again, the word makes me flinch. _**Broken.**_"We did, we knew all long, and you know something el-" Clove breaks off, just as she falls right against me. I scramble back a foot or two, the pain of my mangled chest, shoulders and part of my arms still burning and searing. An arrow is lodged right in her skull.

My eyes instantly flick up to where he stands. Gale. "GALE!" Cato's expression is of more than fury and rage. It's loss, it's pain. He loved her. He loved Clove. He sends the sword right through Gale, almost cutting him in half before my eyes. The wound is deep._ "__**NO!" **_I scream. I haven't even noticed my tears streaming down my face and stinging. I forget the pain in my chest, my arms, I'm frozen by the worst pain of all: heartbreak. I take back thinking Clove butchering my body was the worst pain I've ever felt. It's not. It's my heartbreak that's the worst.

I can't get my bow in the state I'm in, covered in my own blood. His cannon hasn't went off yet. He isn't dead. And I realise why, as Cato turns his attention to me. I know what he's planning. "This is what it feels like," he raises his sword, ready to bring it down on my neck. Gale's watching, using his last surges of energy to hold himself in a sitting position, an expression that can only be described as painfully distinct horror on his face. There's a feeling worse than being broken, and Cato says it before I can think it. "Heartbreak."

I stare into Gale's eyes. "I love you, Gale." **Pain. **Then darkness… Then nothing… Nothing but heartbreak…


	3. Chapter 3- Those Three Words

**A/N: I'm SO SO SO SO sorry I took a while to update, anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Thanks so much to the reviewers, your interest and feedback is really appreciated! Please just take a minute to write even just a little sentence of a review, critical or praise, I don't mind. Thanks again! This chapter reminds me of Snow Patrol's song 'Chasing Cars'. I quoted it in the chapter name and during the chapter. The next was inspired a lot by 'Dead Hearts' by Stars, it's perfect for the film and how Katniss feels about the fallen tributes. The last sentence was a lyric from the song, actually. The next chapter has some more Galeniss and a lot of insight from Katniss' POV on the other tributes. Enjoy x**

Chapter 3- Those Three Words

"**I love you Gale." **

"Katniss!" I jolt into a sitting position on my bed abruptly, drenched in my own sweat. I look at Prim with wide eyes, and I must look alarmed judging by her expression and tone. "Katniss, are you okay?" she asks, looking extremely concerned. I quickly try and regain my composure and seem calm for her sake. "Of course, Prim," I manage a small smile. "I don't remember you coming in here last night, did you have a nightmare?"

We're now living in Victor's Village and have separate rooms, she used to always have nightmares and cuddle up to me in my bed back in our less than humble little home in the Seam, if you can even call it a _home. _I never thought I would, but I miss something about that shithole I grew up in. Something about it, despite how depressing and gloomy and miserable it was- something about it was… warm, almost comforting. Now I'm the one having nightmares, alone in my bed in a luxurious house than just doesn't feel like home. I hope to God that the walls are too sturdily built and heavily packed for her to hear me scream every night.

She shakes her head. "No, I was sleeping. Until… Well, you were screaming again." _Again? So she's heard me every night. If only I'd known I've been terrifying my sister every night, screaming, keeping her awake. She shouldn't have to go through the horrors I'm reliving, I can't drag her down into darkness with me… _"I'm so sorry Prim, I'll be okay, I've been having some nightmares, I'll be back to normal soo-" I begin my lies. "Katniss, I understand. Mom said I should give you some time. That's not why I woke you up… You screamed Gale's name twice then said you loved him."

I feel blush colour my cheeks crimson, I've never blushed because of anything Prim's told me before. Never with Prim. But today, I can't help it. She knows. I hope my dishevelled hair all over my face and the lack of light in my room conceals it, but from her smirk, it's obvious I've had no such luck. I'm at a loss for words. What can I really say, though? I can hardly deny it.

"Prim… I, uh, it was just a dream…" I stammer, trying to stall until I can come up with a reasonably believable excuse. The next thing Prim says reminds me that she's too smart and can see right through me. The only other person who can do that is Gale… And, come to think of it, Peeta, too. But that's another issue entirely. I'm sure the that kiss will come back to haunt me soon enough, because like he said, he doesn't want to forget. I thought I wanted nothing more to forget the horror that is The Hunger Games, but do I really? I mentally curse myself for not regretting that kiss. Those words spoken in the cave. No, I don't want to forget those intimate little moments with Peeta. I don't want to forget.

Like I said, the words that come out of Prim are so wise for someone her age. I inwardly smile at how mature she is, but the harsh reality of her words hits me like a tonne of bricks and makes my blood run cold. My heart rate quickens before I can stop it. "You were being killed, right? You called Gale's name. Not Peeta's, not mine, not mom's and not dad's. _Gale _was the name you screamed. The name you scream as you die, your last hope- they always mean more than you know, until you find yourself saying it. You can deny it all you want, but we both know what it meant. You even said 'I love you, Gale.' Katniss, I once thought that pigs would fly before you said those three words to anyone apart from me. But you said it. And Katniss, I can tell you feel it, too."

The realisation hits me so hard it almost physically hurts. She's right. Of course she is. She's Primrose Everdeen and she's my sister who can read me like a book. I once heard that the **last words that leave your mouth are the truest words you'll ever speak. **I thought little of it at the time, but I believe it now. You only know once you've experienced it. A rule I always go by is 'believe it when you see it, and only then'. I have no choice but to believe my words now, or I'd be going against my own philosophy, wouldn't I?

"Prim, please, promise me you won't speak a word of what I said to _anyone. _Not mother, not your friends, and _certainly _not Gale," I finally speak. She nods. "I-I gotta go shower, then meet Gale, it's Sunday." "Can't be late then, every second you spend with your love counts, right?" she smirks. I shoot her a glare then my sullen, almost deadly expression breaks into a very amused one. I can't help but smile, but as the steam of the Capitol-esque hi-tech shower surrounds me, I can't escape the irony of her words. Every second counts. _And every second with him could be our last._

I feel uneasy as I softly jog to our usual meeting spot, away from unwanted eyes and hidden from the world, high up and… Perfect. It used to be,anyway. But that was before the Games. I used to feel so relaxed and completely comfortable around Gale, but now I feel most anxious and awkward around him than anyone else I know.

I wonder where he is as I approach our meeting point, my anxiety grows worse and worse as each second passes, he's never been late before. Suddenly, a strong, stone grip catches me from behind. I let out a cry and struggle, reaching for a knife in my pocket. I'm released just before I can slash at the arms around my waist. I spin round to face my attacker, on the defence, I'm back in the Games. I was beginning to wonder if it was another one of the seemingly never-ending nightmares until I see that it's Gale. Not Clove, not Cato, not Thresh. It's Gale.

"Damn you, Gale!" I yell, shoving my knife back into my pocket. I almost mirrored the way I said it on that fateful day of the Reaping that ruined my life forever- except this time, there's not a trace of comfort or amusement in my tone. Just pure, cold rage. There's no amusement in his features either. He looks concerned, shocked and pretty horrified, actually. "Catnip, we need to talk." He's obviously trying to offer a sense of comfort using my endearing nickname to partially mask the seriousness of the subject, but his mouth is set in a frown and the expression in his eyes are unreadable.

I've been dreading this confrontation for weeks. Since the day I returned, I knew it would eventually have to happen. I nod and he sits down, motioning for me to join him. I sit with my knees to my chin, clinging to my trouser material, close to ripping it even though my nails are short from constant biting during and after nightmares and from whenever memories of the Games flash through my mind, which happens more often than not these days.

"Katniss, you've been less and less like yourself as time has passed. I thought I should give you time and avoid the subject, I didn't want to force you to think about it more than you already do. But every Sunday the bags under your eyes grow heavier and the circles grow darker. You're not getting much sleep, are you?" He looks me in the eye, his voice is soft and quiet but firm enough for me to know he won't let me put this inevitable conversation off any longer. This is the day. I simply shake my head, not offering any more than the bare minimum. I attempt to keep my expression cold and closed off, because as a person, that's the best words one could use to describe me right now. I can tell he notices the nervousness in my face and misty grey eyes. The uneasiness in the way I clutch my trousers at the knee. The tightness in how I hug my legs to my body. He is no fool.

"Your nightmares are getting worse, aren't they?" he ventures carefully. "They never stop," I nod, avoiding his penetrating gaze. His brow's knit together, accompanying a frown. "I don't want this to change us. Or you. Not any more than it already has. Don't let them take our relationship- friendship," he corrects himself quickly, I almost smile, remembering how I did the same last week in my head. "To hell along with your whatever innocence you once had, you can't let them Katniss, they made you feel guilt every second you remember that Marvel kid, the blonde girl, that brutal guy from 2 and the little girl from 11-"

I cut him off, rage burning inside of me. I've never once felt this mad with him. In fact, I've _never _felt mad with him at all. "I'm sure to his family and friends he was more than just 'that Marvel kid'!" I almost spit those last words that I'm quoting him on at him. "I'm sure Glimmer was more than just 'the blonde girl' to her boyfriend she could have had back home! I'm sure Cato had family back home and siblings who he just wanted to make proud, hell, he loved Clove and she didn't know until she was taking her last fucking breath! And I'm sure as _hell _that Rue was more than just a 'little girl' to lots of people, _me _being one of them! How dare you! How could you, of all people, say that to me?! Or even _think _like that in your own mind?! You're the one that's changed, not me! And you're the one who should feel guilty, not me!" I fail to contain the tears forming in my eyes and they stream down my cheeks like a violent river.

He looks ashamed. He should be. "Katniss, I'm so sorry, I feel so selfish for what I'm about to say and I know I am a horrible person for saying it, but… The only thought on my mind was the thought of one of those_ people_ killing you," he says, emphasising the word 'people'. Good, he's recognised they were all people underneath it all. "I didn't want to get attached to Rue, she reminded me of Prim too much, I knew she wouldn't make it from the start, and who can blame me? You did, too. I didn't want to feel anything more than the bare minimum for anyone in those Games but you. Like I said, you route for your favourites, you cry when they get killed, it's sick! And you know something? _You _were my favourite! I routed for you every second of those damned Games, _every second! _And it's because I- I…" He broke off, but I knew what was coming. Those three words, like Prim had said earlier. **Those three words.**

"Anyway, forget the reasons and excuses, I'm so sorry, Katniss," he's obviously hoping I've forgotten about his little slip-up. Well, I haven't. I never will. "Please, help me understand. Give me one more chance. Help me understand how you felt about the other tributes, how the Careers weren't fully to blame for what they wanted to do and did do to you. Tell me what you saw in them."

"They had lights inside their eyes…"


	4. Chapter 4- It Should Have Been Me

**A/N: Hey everyone, I can't thank my reviewers enough for your continued support and interest in my story! Ashray: Hi, thankyou so much for the review, I'm working up to it, don't worry! I just don't want it to be said too quickly, but I'm working on a way for it to be said that doesn't ruin the build-up to it. Thanks again for your support, let me know what you think of this chapter. mckoy: Hi, thankyou so much for the reviews! I'm so happy my writing was descriptive enough for you to picture that chapter happening! Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! **

**Sorry I've been slow updating, I wrote a one shot on Clove's death, it's Clato and I'm so glad it's gotten reviews but it would mean the WORLD if everyone reading this would take a few minutes to read it and review, I'm going to make a full one about them if enough people say I should, but it'll be different. They're going to fall away from eachother during the Games, meaning one of them is so determined to win that they forget how much they love the other until it's too late to make up for it. I'm not telling you which one because I don't want to give anything away. But yeah, please let me know if I should. **

**Also, PLEASE just take a sec to review this, please? I really need feedback! Thanks and enjoy this. I know I said she'd be talking about the tributes from the Games, how they were more than the killers and the killed, more than tributes, they were **_kids- _**I'd planned it that way, but instead, Gale begins to open up to Katniss about **_his_** feelings, instead of her opening up to him about **_hers. _**Don't worry, there'll be more about nightmares and memories and her feelings and outlook on the Games and the tributes, especially Rue, Cato, Clove, Marvel, Glimmer, Foxface and Thresh. And Peeta might make an appearance in the next chapter. There's going to be some MAJOR Galeniss in this chapter! Sorry for the long A/N! Enjoy and review and favourite/follow please x**

**Chapter 4- It Should Have Been Me**

Gale nodded slowly, obviously waiting for me to elaborate on my strange statement. He looked more than a little perplexed, which was only to be expected. I always thought Gale was my _person. _That he'd always understand even the most un-Katniss statements I make and seemingly absurd questions I ask. I'll give him a bit more to work with, of course; he'll need more insight to mull what I'm saying over. But still, he's always pulled some sort of fairly rational meaning from even the most cryptic words I've spoken. I'm already beginning to wonder if Peeta is the only one who can understand me guilt and feel my pain…

I find myself struggling to describe how I feel and what I saw to him, then it hits me: it's because I've never _had _to explain how I feel to Gale. He always just… _Knew. _He always understood me, my thoughts, my words and my feelings. He just- Just _got _me, as cliché as it sounds, it's true.

I say it before I consider how it could make him feel. "Uh… You kinda had to be there." I look down at the grass. He can't hide the hurt that immediately registers upon his features, not from me. I realise how much my unbelievably stupid and terribly- no, _completely _un-thought out words have killed him just a little more inside.

"Oh, I see it now. Only _Bread Boy _can understand, right? The one and only, the other half of your little 'Star Crossed Lovers' get up can feel your pain, only _Peeta,_" he practically spits Peeta's name. "Gale, I-" I begin, but he cuts me off. "You what, Katniss? You can't help how you feel? You can't help it if your words hurt… How your words _kill _me just a little more inside." _That's exactly how I feel. _"They've been tearing away at me, little by little, since that damn interview. Since that- that kiss…"

My heart is racing and my head is spinning, but his last words shake me inside and my head snaps up to look him in the eye. "You cared about all that?" I ask, furrowing my brows. Now he's the one who looks down. "I guess I do…"

"Well, that _'damn interview' _saved my life, Gale! You owe Peeta for-" I begin loudly. "For ruining us?" I almost choke on my next words at his statement. "W-what?" He remains silent. Of course he does. "Gale, what _are _we?"

He finally looks up and meets my eyes. "I don't know Katniss. All I know is that I said 'I guess I do' when you asked me if I cared, but that was a lie. Katniss… I care more than you'll ever know. I know he was there, Katniss. But believe me, I was close to volunteering just so I could save you. I didn't, only because I'd promised you I'd stay with Prim and your mother. I'd hate myself if my family had to watch me die, but I'd hate myself even _more _if you died when I could've saved you. But it's okay, he saved you. He saved you and he declared his love to you while I watched from the Hob. While I watched from afar… And you know what? I felt like I was right there beside you, like I had your back as I always have and will- but at the same time, I felt like I was so far away."

I can't think of an answer to that, so I ask a question, instead. "How'd you know about the bread?" "What?" He looks baffled. "The bread." He raises an eyebrow, still not comprehending my question. "What _bread? _I called him 'Bread Boy' because he's a baker, is he not?" I just nod slowly like an idiot. In this moment, I _am _an idiot. He's pouring his heart out to me and all I can come up with in response is what I don't realise is a terrible mistake of a question 'How'd you know about the bread?' "Katniss, is there something you want to share with me about Peeta? What bread? Or did I just _have to be there_ to understand?"

His words are like a slap to my face. No, more than that. They actually _hurt. _They're like… It's like someone has punched a deep hole right through my chest. My heart. It's like _he _has punched a huge whole in my chest, in my heart. "No, I'm just… Confused. Your words are really messing with my head, that's all…" That's two lies in one, nice job Katniss. _Real _nice. I've lied about the bread, obviously. But I've also lied about his words messing with my head. They're not. They're really messing with my _heart. _Oh my god… Did I just think that? No, we're just friends. No, I'm lying to myself, now, too. We're more than _friends._

Thankfully for me, he decides not to press on with the bread issue, probably out of pity more than anything else. He knows how confused I am. Confusion and lack of sleep don't mix well. Add in killing three people (I guess I indirectly killed Glimmer, but still) and that's a recipe for _disaster. _He knows I'm lying, though. We can both see right through each other. I'm sure my mistake of being so dumb and clueless there will come back to haunt me later, he won't forget my strange vagueness there.

"Anyway… He was confessing his love to you, telling you all about how he's loved you since he first saw you, and he's always felt something strong for you since then. We both have something in common, I suppose. We both almost left our confessions too late. _Almost. _He was protecting you, he was kissing you… When it- It should have been me."

**A/N: Too soon? Or do you guys like it? Sorry, had to leave you on a cliffhanger there ;) I'm also sorry this was kinda short, but a lot has been revealed so I hope that makes up for it. Expect some Peeta and Gale confrontation soon, some Katniss and Peeta possible romance and more on Katniss' thoughts, nightmares, memories and experiences in the Games/ on the fallen tributes. PLEASE Review, please please please? Thankyou so much for reading! x**


	5. Chapter 5- Which Love is Real?

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they mean a lot to me! **

** mckoy: I'm glad you did! Thanks for your on-going support! :)**

** ashray4: I love Gale a little more than I love Peeta, I'll try not to let that influence the story but I want Gale and Katniss to end up together, too! You just gotta keep reading and see if he can completely win her back from Peeta ;) Thanks for your on-going support! **

** randomgirl18: Hi, thanks so much for the constructive criticism. I wanted to have the Games change Katniss' personality a little, I wanted her to be vulnerable, the fierce Girl on Fire is almost un-recognisable and time has caught up to her. Guilt has caught up to her. But she'll get a lot more like herself- stubborn, sarcastic and feisty in the coming chapters, don't worry. You're right, Suzanne Collins usually doesn't go too in depth when Katniss recalls the Games, but I'm a really descriptive writer, sorry if I'm not portraying her right. I'm glad you think I did well with Cato and Clove's characters, I did a one shot on Clove's death with their feelings during it, I'd be so happy if you took a look at it and gave a review just as amazing as the reviews your giving me for this. I'm glad you pointed that out though, I'll try to stay true to Katniss as a character but this is my version of her I guess, which is a little different from Suzanne's even though I don't mean it to be. I appreciate your reviews so much and I'll take what you said on board! I'm glad you think I did well with Cato and Clove's characters, I did a one shot on Clove's death with their feelings during it, I'd be so happy if you took a look at it and gave a review just as amazing as the reviews your giving me for this. :) I always wondered if I should make a new paragraph when the person speaking changes, thanks for pointing that out, I really appreciate it! :) **

**I hope you all like this chapter. I updating a bit quicker this time :) Please read my Clato one shot and review, it'd mean a lot! Please, whoever is reading this right now, PLEASE review. It really helps. Thankyou again to my amazing reviewers!**

**Chapter 5: Which Love is **_**Real?**_

Gale's words force me into a strange, almost trance-like, frozen state. Usually, I'd have a witty, albeit snarky response to anything Gale or anybody else were to say to me. But not this. What can I really say? 'I love you too, let's run off and live the life we always dreamed of in the woods, and finally have our happily ever after'? I can't say it because I'd be lying. I think a part of me- how big or small that part may be- does love him. But does a part of me love Peeta, too? Or is that fake? Do I love Gale real, or Peeta? Or both? Which part is bigger? The part of me that could love Gale, or the part that might just love Peeta? Which love is stronger? Then the main question hits me: Which love is _real? _

Memories of the Games flash before my eyes. Right from the Reaping to the very end. A few significant moments stand out from the rest and stick in my mind while the less intense memories enter and leave my thoughts relatively quickly. I remember wondering if I really do love Peeta, in that cave, the kiss felt so… Real. Almost like it was _right. _Was it really all for the cameras? He said he didn't want to forget. Maybe I don't either. I also remember how heartbroken and completely distraught and anguished Cato was when he lost Clove. My real opponent in the Games (along with Foxface and maybe Thresh and at a point Clove) had seemed so strong inside and outside. He didn't flinch after killing a kid he probably didn't even know the name of, in fact, he relished in it. He cared for nobody but himself and the death and violence surrounding him seemed to leave him almost untouched on the surface. But I didn't realise until the very end that each kill sent him further to the edge underneath it all… I was so wrong about him. He cared for Clove, maybe even more than himself. And _I _care for Gale, maybe even more than myself… Or do I care for Peeta and Gale equally, since I risked my life for him and I'd risk it for Gale anyday, too?

Last but not least, something that I almost forget about in the blur of it all: Gale's last words to me before he was dragged from the room in the Justice Building. _"Katniss, remember I-" _What was he going to tell me? Why'd he leave it until the last second? Possibly because he was too nervous or scared to tell me whatever it was…

I must have been sitting seemingly idly in silence for at least five whole minutes, with a thousand questions swirling around in my head like a storm, because he finally speaks again.

"Catnip? Are you okay?" He looks concerned and I blink myself back into the present, there here and now. The present, which is my long-time best friend pouring his heart out to me, confessing his love for me. The here and now, which is a precious Sunday morning in the one place I truly feel, or _felt _at home. The Games ruined that, too, though. It reminds me too much of the Arena here. I'm also aware that what he's just told me will make it even harder to leave him _again _for that damned Victory Tour. His words will stick in my head along with all the other memories of him, of Prim and my father, the Games, the bread, Madge, Lady, my mother and even _Buttercup._

I don't answer his question. "What were you gonna tell me, when you said 'Katniss, remember I' before they dragged you away from the Justice Building. What was I to remember?"

Gale knows exactly what he was going to say, I can tell. "I was going to tell you most of what I just told you a minute ago…" He looks down, now. Is he ashamed? Or maybe just embarrassed?

"Then why'd you leave it to the last second?" I ask carefully. "You were scared, right? Of my reaction?"

He shakes his head, still not meeting my eyes. "Then why?" I press on, perplexed and confused, feeling my brows knit together and a frown form on my lips.

"I knew there was something between you and him, I could just tell, the way you looked at each other," he finally admits, sounding cold and a little harsh.

My blood runs cold at his words. How much worse and how much more confusing can this conversation get? I don't know it yet, but it can and will get a _whole _lot worse.

"Gale, no…" I say sadly, mentally cursing myself for not concealing the very obviously guilt in my tone. I realise I sound ashamed, too. Like Peeta said, I'm a terrible liar.

"Oh, don't even try to deny it. Katniss, don't lie to me, it's insulting. I've known you so long, _loved _you so long. I was right here, he loved you from afar! He loved you from his cosy little bakery in the square! He was just using you to win, he may think he loves you, but he doesn't _love _you, he-"

"Gale! That's enough. Please… I know you're hurting. But believe me, so am I. I've got a lot to deal with, don't make this harder than it has to be."

That makes his head shoot up and he glares at me. "Don't make what harder than it has to be? Goodbye forever? You forgetting me for the bright lights of the Capitol and your fake little love story with _him?" _He's clearly trying to sound mad but he sounds more hurt and devastated than anything else.

"I will _never _forget you. Never. I know you didn't mean that, you know me better than anybody and you know I detest the Capitol more than anything. You know I need you, I- I need you more than you need me…" I admit. I guess this is honesty hour.

"Then don't leave me," he says softly but simply.

"I wouldn't, not for the world. But you and I both know I don't have a choice," I say sadly.

"I know," Gale sighs. "I knew that from the moment you volunteered. I knew you'd never truly come home…"

I want to me mad at him for saying that. Maybe I should be furious. But the truth is- I'm not. It's true. It doesn't make it hurt any less, the words sting, widening that now gaping hole in my chest. The real Katniss Everdeen began to disappear as soon as I stepped up onto that platform. Then she almost completely got lost when that gong sounded at the Cornucopia. Then she almost faded into nothing when she left the arena. I want her back, and so does Gale.

"I just need some time to heal. Momentarily forget, even if it's just for a little while. This time is rare and precious. We can got back to how it used to be. I don't want anything to change between us."

"But I do."

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter kinda sucked, I promise it'll progress more and get better next chapter! Please please please review and read my other story! It's a little short, I promise I'll make up for it though! x**


	6. Chapter 6- If Looks Could Kill

**A/N: Thankyou SO much to all of my amazing, lovely and inspiring reviewers. This story would be nothing without your support and constructive criticism. I hope you like this chapter! Sorry I've been kinda a little slow updating, I've been practicing for a really important singing exam and been busy with friends, plus school is back Wednesday :/ I'll keep updating as quickly as I can, though! :) Guys, let me know if I'm having Gale share his true feelings too quickly. I'm trying to show the Games made him realise how he shouldn't hold it back, she'd never have known if she didn't win. But yeah, please review, follow and/or favourite! :)**

** ashray: Thankyou so much, I'm so glad you like the story. Things will be changing between them, don't worry ;)**

** hgfan: Thanks for the detail and sharing your opinion. I have to say I disagree with some of your thoughts on Katniss, but everybody has a different opinion and I'm glad you shared yours with me :)**

** mckoy: You're so welcome! Awh, it's nice to hear you like my ending of chapters, I always aim to end them either on a sweet note or cliffhanger, thankyou so much for your continued support! :)**

** randomgirl18: Thankyou so much! I'm so glad that line stuck out to you, I meant for it to be remembered, thankyou for your continued support and interest in my story! :)**

** DistrictHeathdene: Thankyou so much for your review and opinion! I'm going to have more Peeta action in the next few chapters for Everlark fans like yourself. I'll try and balance the Galeniss and Everlark haha, I ship them both. Gale and Peeta are going to get a little competitive over the next few chapters and Katniss will just be even more confused ahah. :)**

**Chapter 6: If Looks Could Kill**

I'm speechless for what must be the tenth time since this conversation began. As I said to Peeta back in the cave when he confessed how he felt about me and requested that I say something: _I'm not good at saying something. _Just when I believe I can't possibly get any more confused, another thought pops into my head… Did Peeta actually _mean _what he said? Any of it? A little bit? Or maybe even _all _of it?

I recall him informing Haymitch that I'm _'excellent with a bow'_ and I shoot the squirrels I sell to his father _'right in the eye, everytime.' _How the hell would he remember that if he wasn't being truthful? And how I used to wear my hair in 'two braids instead of one', _and _how at assembly, when the teacher asked who knew the Valley Song, 'my hand shot straight up.' He wouldn't. Not if he was making it all up…

Although, Peeta's proven himself to be rather resourceful, creative and a natural liar before; when he had the Careers all under the ridiculous illusion of an idea that he'd lead them straight to me. He'd assist them in tracking down and ultimately killing _me, _the girl he has loved since he first laid eyes on me. How he managed to pull that one off without earning either a knife in the back or a sword through his heart, I will never know or understand. Unless, however, I ask him. In fact, Peeta has an awful lot of explaining to do, I think I might just pay the Mellark Bakery a visit later.

I've been avoiding him since the Games. I'd technically been avoiding Gale too- well, not so much Gale, but the inevitable conversation that's taking place today. I know it's not over, even though he got side-tracked with pouring his heart out to me and explaining deep feelings for me he's harboured supposedly from the very beginning; we'll return to the difficult subject of the Games. Not today, likely not tomorrow or the next day- but soon enough, we will.

But I've conquered my long time best friend confessing his strong love for me and a little about the Games all in roughly twenty minutes. I may as well confront Peeta today, lift a little of the weight and anxiety off my shoulders. I mean, how much worse can it get? Not much worse at all! Right? _Wrong. _It can and does get a _lot _worse…

"Gale, I- I need some time. Time isn't a luxury I have often, I intend to make the best of it while I still can. My head, it… Really hurts. It's pounding, I feel like it'll explode if I think anymore. Please can we just momentarily put our feelings to the side and enjoy hunting together?" I try to sound calm, comfortable and in-control but we both know I may as well be pleading him. I don't have to, though, because he understands. Gale is the one person who truly understands my feeling of inner peace while I hunt. It's the only thing I don't really need to _think _about, I'm experienced and comfortable enough to hunt on pure instinct.

The memory of me shooting that second arrow at Clove without even realising it springs to mind, and how I instinctively sent the arrow straight through Marvel's throat, along with how I shot that first mutt as soon as it appeared without so much as a thought does too. I find myself wondering which tribute's DNA was in that one, but quickly push that question and the memories of killing, knowing I'll be forced to relive them again tonight. Unless I just don't sleep, which I've been carefully considering for several weeks now, even if I refuse to sink into the horrors that sleep brings, I'll be alone with my thoughts in a big, full, yet so _empty _house- and being alone with my thoughts? That's _never _a good thing. Everything leads to some kind of memory of the Games and I can't escape it. I doubt I ever will.

For a while, I was reluctant to hunt and it was daunting to even cross the fence line. But Gale eased me into hunting and slaughtering again. At least it's animals, who I used to hate killing, but then desperation and hunger, and the desire to keep my family alive set in and I became numb to it.

Killing humans, however? Well, that's a whole different issue entirely, a whole different _horror _entirely that I'd rather not think about at the moment. Gale is rarely wrong when it comes to any aspect of hunting, we both have keen survival instinct- but one sentence he spoke in that God forsaken Justice Building will haunt me and follow me forever, only adding to my overwhelming guilt. **"**You know how to hunt." "Yeah, _animals, _Gale." **"It's no different, Katniss." **I nodded, somewhat vacantly at the time, but how wrong he was...

It _was _different. _Very_ different. On so many levels. I suppose he was partially correct, depending on how you want to look at it, really. I shot instinctively, my fight or flight instinct very much put into practice in all battle and close combat situations. However, the unbearable guilt, almost turning into remorse soon followed after all the adrenaline left my system.

He's also right in the sense that I don't actually _regret _killing, it was all for my family, all for Prim. For Gale. Maybe even… For Peeta, too. And of course Cinna and I have to admit, Haymitch, too. Haymitch really has grown on me. I'll pay him a visit once he returns from a press trip to the Capitol that he was forced to take. He understands my pain, him and Peeta. But will Gale ever understand…?

I shake the troubling and relentlessly confusing thoughts away and momentarily out of my head, knowing full and well that no matter what, they'll always remain at the back of my mind.

"Of course, Katniss, I understand. Let's go hunt," he nods and even manages a weak smile, attempting to mask his obvious hurt and anxiety, maybe some embarrassment and just a bit of lust hiding in his misty, mysterious grey Seam eyes. I'm flattered more than anything, I have two likeable, kind, strong and I have to say- attractive and good looking boys (well, technically men) lusting after me like I'm some sort of beauty Queen, the Glimmer of District 12.

I mentally curse myself for letting my thoughts drift back to another person I'm responsible for killing. I'm actually the total opposite of Glimmer. I'm not easy to charm, I'm closed-off, I push people away- sometimes un-knowingly, I'm not interested in being under a guy's arm, I don't necessarily need or _want _one. I don't believe there's anything beautiful, particularly attractive, eye-catching or _sexy _about me- though the vast majority of the Capitol and Panem itself seems to. I wonder if they see something beautiful on the inside of me, but I'm rude, sarcastic, closed-off, short-tempered and as Haymitch once said, have about as much charm as a dead slug about me.

Still, I captured the audience of the Capitol and the Gamemakers seemed to have liked my 'spunk', or so Haymitch put it- maybe a little too kindly and generously. The credit is mostly Peeta's, for the whole Star Crossed Lover dynamic, and Cinna's, for the Girl on Fire persona and character; but still, they kinda… Love me? Admire me? Support me? Or maybe they just enjoy watching my endless torment, or the fake smiles and dry humour and 'spunk' I possess. God knows. Or _maybe, _just maybe, my guilt has led to me wallowing in a pool of self-loathing with a little self-pity, mostly overpowered by guilt thrown in there too. I haven't the slightest idea.

We hunt as usual for a few hours, then we see a lone deer grazing about 15 feet away. I shoot it effortlessly, again, without a second thought. Gale let's out a whoop of excitement and happiness, and when I think about it now, it was more than likely because we'll have a real treat for his family tonight- not so much mine, we have plenty of rich, high-quality meats and even some Capitol confections. But, in the moment, I'm back in the Arena again, because his gleeful cry of happiness somehow reminds me too much of the proud, amused and cruel cries the Careers loudly let out when the killed that poor but nonetheless idiotic girl from 8. Even more horrifying- it reminds me too much of how they whooped and laughed when they spotted me at that lake.

The memories come flooding back before I can stop them. Rapid, heavy footsteps. "Where you gonna go now, Girl on Fire?!" The sound of my heart-beat drumming in my ears and thumping uncontrollably in my chest. "Any last words for your pathetic little sister before we cut you apart?" Sharp burning pain as the rough bark rubs against my freshly charred flesh. I feel like it's ripping what little skin that remains there off, slowly and unforgivingly painfully. "Kill her, Cato, kill her!" Their eyes show nothing more than hunger for my blood, longing for my cannon to boom and echo like music to their corrupted ears, burning hatred because I outscored and upstaged them, un-mistakable contempt and a little amusement behind the hatred. "You've got her now, kill her! Kill her!" The glint of his sword under the faint, weak sunlight sends me scrambling further and faster up the tree. "Come on, Cato, kill her!" He's masking his frustration with a look so hateful that it's indescribable. It's extremely more intense than any of the others' are, I can almost feel that harsh, cruel, cold sword of his tearing through me. If looks could kill, I'd be dead and gone long before now. If looks could kill, I'd be scattered across the arena in a million pieces. It still chills me to the bone, and so do his next words.**"I'm coming for you…"**

I must have zoned out for a while now, because Gale's shaking me violently and it causes me to forcefully push him backwards, he doesn't quite lose his footing, though. _Katniss! This is Gale, not Cato. This is your best friend who __**loves **__you, he doesn't want to hurt you._ I tell myself, but I realise I've already began to run and my heart is racing. I'm back in the Arena _again. _"Wait, Katniss!" He must call, but all I hear is: "Run for your life, Fire Girl!" He's running after me but I don't hear his notoriously loud feet behind me, I hear the Careers' hunting me down like a dog. "KATNISS!" But I just hear "KILL HER!" Instead. "I'm not going to hurt you!" No, instead I hear: **"I'm coming for you."**

My head whips violently behind me and to either side of me every few seconds and if anyone was watching me, they'd think I was insane. Maybe I am.

I'm much too fast for Gale to keep up with and soon I'm back home. I burst through the door, still not snapped out of my trance. Or insanity, or nightmare, or even hallucination, whatever you want to call it. "Katniss?!" A small figure from behind me grabs me. _Clove. _ I whip around and harshly push or more or less throw her into the wall. _"Katniss!" _She whimpers, scrambling backwards away from me, terrified. Then it hits me. I'm not in the Arena, I'm at my home in Victor's Village, in District 12. And this is not Clove, this is _Prim._

"Prim!" I practically squeak. "Prim, I'm so sorry!" I'm horrified when she still cowers away when I approach her with my arms spread to embrace her in a tight, warm hug. Tears are streaming down her face and I soon realise they're streaming down mine, too. "Prim, I thought- I thought you were _Clove. _And I thought Gale- I thought he was _Cato. _I'm so sorry Prim, I didn't mean it. I'd never hurt you, Prim, I'm sorry!" She looks slightly less terrified but more horrified at what I've just told her. "Please don't be scared, I promise I'll never hurt you again," I say softly and more calmly, for her sake. She jumps to her fight and practically throws herself into me ready and waiting arms. What she says next sends me into shocking realisation. "I'm here, Katniss, it's me, it's Prim. Clove and Cato will never, ever hurt you again, I promise. I'm here, you're safe with me."

"Oh, Prim," I say sadly, muffled in her shoulder and through new tears. "I'm so sorry, I should be the one comforting and reassuring you. I'm so sorry. I'm going to really try and get through this, for you, Prim. For you and for Gale. For Father… I'm not gonna be like mom, I promise you." I stroke her hair and we stay this way for several minutes. My mother must be out at the market. I'll never become like her. I won't let that happen. Never.

"I gotta go, Gale will be here any minute and I can't handle explaining this to him right now…" I admit, letting go and sniffling quietly, regaining my composure a little. She nods. "I'll tell him. Where are you going?" She's so strong and it makes me so proud. She's being strong for me. She's putting me back together. I know exactly where I have to go. To the one person who understands. Better than Haymitch, better than Gale, better than Prim. The one person who feels my pain. "I'm going to see Peeta."

**A/N: Dramatic, right? Haha, I hope it wasn't too dramatic, the story is kinda meant to be though. I hope you all loved this Chapter and I didn't disappoint you, please please PLEASE review, follow and/or favourite. I'll update soon! Thanks so much for reading, I love you all! xx**


	7. Chapter 7- Painting Pictures

**A/N: Thankyou so much to my AMAZING reviewers! Love you all. Your comments and praise mean the world to me! But this story has had like 800 or something views and only 4 or 5 of the readers are reviewing after every or most chapters. PLEASE, if you're reading this, please leave just a tiny or detailed review! I don't care how big or small, please just review :) I'm SO sorry this one took a while, but it's longer so yeah. And I haven't edited it or read it through because I wanted to get it up as soon as possible for you guys. **

**Oh, and guys? You all said this story could go in many different directions. I have a few ideas. The Quarter Quell is going to be different from how Suzanne wrote it. I hope you'll all like it when the time comes for me to write it, I haven't decided what I'm going to have happen yet but I have some ideas ;) And I just made up a name that I thought suited Peeta's mom, idk why. I gave her a whole new warm persona, too, or to Katniss she is anyway. :)**

** randomgirl18: Thankyou! I find description really easy, it just comes naturally, I read your Bella fan-fiction and it was amazing, if you do have trouble it doesn't show :) Try not planning much with your writing, just let it flow naturally and if you get a block go do something you enjoy and relax then come back to your story. Sometimes planning helps people, though, whatever works for you :)**

**Chapter 7: Painting Pictures**

I hear Gale's heavy, rapid footsteps quickly approaching our home. I almost zone back into the Games but this time, manage to shake out of the memory. I know it's not achievement of the year for me, but it's a good start to making a recovery and I guess it's a milestone. Then my small sense of achievement and sudden positive energy fall flat as I realise I may _never _make a full recovery.

I push those concerns away and realise I've got a situation on my hands here. Nothing I can't handle, after all, I made it out of the Arena when the odds were _never _in my favour.

Anyway, Gale is quickly approaching the door. I shoot Prim a nod, she gives me a knowing glance, she's got me covered. Prim will distract and stall while I exit through the back door. I feel that warmth inside of my chest again, I feel so proud of her. She's basically playing the same part I did for my mother, I realise with a strong pang of guilt. I'm still in control, right? I'm just verging on… Insanity and paranoia. I won't let it get to that stage, she won't live through what I did. I forbid it.

I am quick on my feet, of course, and am out the back door before he can even knock our front one. Peeta lives directly next door, Haymitch to my houses right side with Peeta's home built to my left. That's always handy. Then I wonder if the close proximity allows Peeta to hear my screams… He _has _knocked the door and phoned to talk to me almost every day without fail, but I've became a master at evading him over the past few weeks.

At least I won't have to be concerned about Haymitch hearing, like I noted previously, he's just completing his mandatory stay at the Capitol for 'press events', he'll be home any day now. Plus, he'll be too drunk to hear anything. Or maybe he'll try and remain sober, since we won and need his support, who knows?

Whenever I call Haymitch, which is every couple of days, he's extremely vague. Most likely because the phone lines are obviously tapped and every call is closely monitored by the Capitol, and, ultimately President Snow himself. I shake off the burning hatred and rage conjuring up inside of me just thinking about that- that _man, _if you can even call him a man. It'll send me over the edge and I'll end up losing control and punching something, which I can't have happening.

Something still feels _wrong, _about Haymitch. He sounds so tired. Not fatigue/ lack of sleep caused tiredness, or his usual grumpy attitude, he lacks something… Motivation? No, he's dedicated to helping Peeta and I. Humour? Yes, but that's not all that's missing… Then it hits me. _Hope. _He's losing hope. But why? What has Snow been telling him?

He's most likely been threatening him, we all know I have lit up a spark. Maybe by standing up to the Gamemakers in the private session, scoring an 11, maybe by defying all odds when they were stacked against me and making it out alive, maybe by outlasting and killed the most skilled Careers 1 and 2 could offer, maybe by the flowers for Rue, the hand salute or possibly by threatening to rob them of having a victor. Maybe all of those have added fuel to the fire, but either way and whether I meant to or not, the flame of Rebellion is growing vastly every day. Things are changing. People are getting angry. They're feeling hope. So why isn't Haymitch? I'll hear all about it when he returns, I'm sure.

I'm grateful I have such a tactful little sister and vault over the fence separating mine and Peeta's large backyards. Then I climb over his garden fence so I'm standing between the sides of our houses, leaning closely into the wall and listening intently to what's going on in my house. I can't make out what they're saying, my ear being damaged in that explosion back in the Arena can't have helped much. I quickly decide it safe to walk to Peeta's front door and walk briskly up his path, to distract myself from remembering that horrible day in painfully vivid detail.

I'd never been more afraid in my life. Cato was more furious than I'd ever seen a person be in my whole life, worse than me in my worst moments of intense rage. I have a feeling he realised it had been me as soon as he'd calmed down. I shiver and wonder if Clove did, too. Then another image of that day pops up in my mind before I can push it out: losing Rue. Watching the life escape her every weak, hoarse breath she took and singing for her until her heart beat for the last time…

By the time I've knocked on the door, I'm fighting tears, trying to regain my composure. Thankfully I do, because it isn't Peeta who answers, it's Mrs. Mellark, his mother.

"Why if it isn't the Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen herself!" She beams when she sees me and immediately pulls me into an almost painfully tight hug that I return reluctantly, slowly and awkwardly by resting my arms lightly on her back as she squeezes mine with her arms.

She eventually releases me, after what feels like an eternity. "Yeah, um, good afternoon ."

"Please, call me Clara, there's no need for formalities here!" She smiles enthusiastically. "You saved my son's life after all, you're the reason he's alive today."

_We saved each other._ I recall myself telling Caesar that in our last interview, correcting Peeta after he said "She saved my life." I almost say it, but instead I mumble: "Oh, no, Mrs. Mellark, give Peeta the credit for that. He saved me countless times and put his-self at risk, too, for me."

"I said call me Clara," she laughs lightly but heartily, all the same. She really is nothing like the angry woman I saw scolding Peeta outside the bakery on that fateful day when 'Bread Boy' was officially born. I feel a sudden anger inside of me, remembering how it looked like she mistreated him and I recall him telling me she thought out District would finally have a winner this year, and how she'd been talking about me, not her own _son. _Why do I feel so… Protective and touchy about him? I ignore the feeling. "And no, no, you were so brave fighting and killing that murderous Career boy from 2, he really did hate you, Katniss. They all did. In fact, him and those other heartless killers were constantly going into great detail about how they despised you and how they planned on-"

I flinch at her words and feel annoyance returning, surely the Careers showed they weren't entirely _heartless. _Anyway, her words are making me uncomfortable and I'd prefer not to be enlightened on the details of how they planned on killing me or what they thought of me- I'll very likely suffer through it in my nightmares tonight if I hear anymore, so I cut her off: "Not to be rude, but I'd prefer not to know any more if that's alright, Clara," I manage to sound moderately polite.

"I understand. All I'm saying is, each of them deserve everything they got for saying those horrible things about you and my son, it was despicable," she said, her voice thick with disgust and loathing.

What she's said makes me even more uncomfortable and irritated. They were people. _Kids, _even if they didn't act or seem like they were. They were kids that myself and _her son _killed. Peeta, more in-directly than myself, but he was still involved. It's not like he had a choice. Like I said before, it's kill or be killed. She speaks as thought I should be proud of ending their lives, like they'd be proud of ending mine. But if I was, then I'd be no better than them. I feel like telling her all of this to enlighten her that even when people do or say bad, or _despicable _things, as she put it, they are still _people. _

However, I manage to bite my tongue and say more coldly than I intended to: "I should just go, I really don't want to discuss the Games any longer, goodbye Mrs. Mellark." I suppose I'm partially lying, after all, I _did _come here to discuss the Games. But not with her, with Peeta. I want to leave before I really do give her a peace of my mind, before I say something that I'll regret. Of course, she's a Mellark. They don't give up easily…

"It's Clara, remember, you can call my Clara," she says somewhat warmly, either not noticing or ignoring my harsh, cold tone. _But I don't _want _to. _I don't dislike , I just don't know her well enough to be discussing this with her, if I don't even feel comfortable telling _Gale_ about it, then why would I want to tell _her _my deepest, innermost thoughts and feeling about it? "No, don't be silly Katniss, you haven't tried the new cake recipe yet! Oh, where are my manners? I was so engaged in our little discussion there that I forgot to invite you in! Come on in."

She opens the door further and smiles reassuringly in a welcoming, almost comforting way and I relax just a little as I step tentatively inside. "Actually, as much as I'm sure I'd enjoy your baking, I came here to speak with Peeta. Is he around?"

What I've said brightens her features even more. "Oh, of course, dear. He's upstairs, probably painting. Go on up and don't mind me milling around down here, I'm just cooking supper before his brothers and father get home from the bakery. I better make a start, they get home in just over an hour…" She says, starting to turn to walk away but turning back to me after her first step away. "It was lovely to meet you properly, I can see that fire behind your beauty even stronger up close," she adds thoughtfully.

I smile genuinely at her words. "Thankyou," I say solemnly, the same way I said it to Cinna when he transformed me from a pale, simple, bland, shy girl to a fiery, radiant, bold, rebellious Goddess. She nods with a smile and I make me way carefully up the large staircase, it's very similar to my own. His house only has slight differences in décor to mine that are hardly noticeable.

I have no idea which room is his, but I hear someone humming quietly in one so I knock quietly. The door opens and sure enough, it's Peeta. "Katniss!" Peeta exclaims, a paintbrush falling from his hand to the floor. He breaks into a huge grin, enveloping me gently in his arms and I return his embrace without even thinking about it.

"Peeta," I say, realising my voice is heavy and tearful. It's the same way I said it when I saw him amongst those rocks… He releases me and stares at me in concern.

He shuts the door to offer me a sense of privacy and make me more comfortable. I know he understands, because instead of asking if I'm okay, he says: "Katniss, I've been trying to visit and call for days… I hear you, every night. It really does kill me. But you're here now and that's all that matters. And I'm always gonna be right next to you, you never have to be alone, you know. Your pain is my pain."

I nod, because it's true. Before I reply, I glance vacantly around the room, my eyes scanning briefly over the tidy, large bed, other door leading to a walk in closet, another door that I assume is a bathroom and an additional one that's open, but I don't know what's in that room. I wonder, then I realise it must be his art room. That explains the paintbrush; he was painting when I came. Of course he was- that's his escape. Mines is hunting, being in the woods with Gale.

Then my eyes rest on a painting on a wooden stand across from his bed, against the wall; and I gasp in horror, I can feel my eyes widening significantly despite the stinging of my tears. Then another, then another. The first one is of us at the Tribute parade holding hands, on fire.

Fair enough, that's something to be proud of. It might make him happy, proud or more at ease but it only reminds me of the glares we'd receive from the Careers afterwards, especially Cato. Glimmer didn't seem amused at all, either, I must have looked prettier than her or something. Not that I care or ever did. Clove was glaring right through me and Cato looked like he wanted to kill us then and there, but Marvel didn't seem too fussed. He was never the sharpest tool in the box anyway, let's face it.

The second one was the Cornucopia bloodbath, and I shudder, it brings back the horrible images of little kids lying motionless and limp, having their necks snapped or being stabbed and left to bleed out in the dirt for the whole of Panem to see- including their family. That was horrific.

The third and final one is the one that truly gets me, it's the finale.

It's obviously from his perspective and viewpoint, I can see me on the other side of the Cornucopia scrambling backwards from Cato, clearly panicking because there's mutts about to tear me into shreds only a few feet from me, probably the most skilled killer that was in that Arena with us advancing on me, armoured with a heavy sword who despises me, an injured Peeta lying several feet away, almost motionless- and, well, my life was just really just hanging in the balance at that point, wasn't it?

It mostly focuses on the mutts and the detail on them is pretty impressive, I have to say.

There's Foxface with her fiery ginger fur, Glimmer with her golden, heavily textured fur and piercing green eyes, there's Clove and her eyes are so dark and hate-filled, they may as well be black. I can't see Thresh because by this point I must have already killed his mutt, I remember shooting it before we started fighting to the death. Then there she is… It's Rue. I feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes and the memories will flood back if I don't avert my eyes from his work.

I realise Peeta and I aren't escaping the horrors of the Games by _hunting_ and painting _pictures _of the people we killed. How stupid and naïve was I to believe hunting in woods very similar to the Arena's woodland would distract me from the Games? Using a wooden bow to kill animals much like I used a silver one to kill _kids, _how would _that _offer me any kind of relief?It logically shouldn't. And it didn't, in fact, it sent me teetering even closer to the edge.

So if doing that with my best friend of years can somehow send me into hallucinations and a breakdown of some kind, driving me to eventually throw my _sister _into a wall- then how can painting painfully detailed _pictures _of the worst, most horrific parts of the Games help Peeta heal or sleep at night? It's beyond me. Worse yet, he's placed the completed ones right across from his _bed!_ Where he _sleeps!_

Just before I open my mouth to ask him what all this is about, I swear my heart skips a full beat. There's a smaller painting on his bedside table. It's not the Capitol, it's not children killing other children, it's not children trying to kill _us, _it's worse than all of them combined. It's me.

I'm lying on the ground with what's either a sword or spear wound in my chest that's causing blood to spill all over my clothes. I've been attacked by tracker jackers, too, there's lumps all over me. I turn my attention to Peeta, eyes wide and horror-stricken. "_Why?" _

His expression is unreadable, but I think it's apologetic. It seems to be a mixture of sadness and regret, too. "Katniss, you remember those three moments, don't you?" he asks, motioning subtly to the three paintings I saw first.

I nod slowly.

"And you have nightmares about them," he said, it was more of a statement than a question, but I nod again anyway, since I'm too horrified, confused and stunned to speak.

"I used to, the first few nights we got back. Then I decided to do something about it, to find a way to help myself. To heal. So, I painted them, the worst moments, to remind me they already _happened, _so I don't have nightmares. To remind me we won, we can try and momentarily put those memories behind us until the Victory Tour. When I realised they already happened and they ended with us both surviving, the nightmares gradually stopped almost completely," he explains carefully.

I say nothing and avoid his gaze. I understand, I suppose. He's found a way to heal. This is his way. I'm ashamed to actually feel a sharp pang of jealousy, realising he's found a way to heal that actually _works _and I haven't. But that feeling fades away at his next words.

"They _almost _stopped. I began having worse nightmares. It wasn't _me _being killed. It was _you. _In countless different ways. Usually at the hands of the Careers, occasionally of the tracker jackers and once, at _my _hand," he continues, and I can't supress a shiver at the last part. "So I dealt with it in the same way. I painted a picture. But this time, instead of convincing myself it had happened and I'd gotten through it, I had to convince myself it didn't happen and I _wouldn't _have to go through it. Not then, now, or ever. I don't want to lose you, Katniss. Not in my dreams or in reality, not _ever," _his tone gradually softens.

Much like earlier with Gale, I don't know how to reply, so I don't. Instead, I just wait for him to either move onto a different subject or continue talking about his paintings. But he does neither, forcing me to respond.

I change the subject, it's too tiring to think about- how he doesn't want to lose me and he may or may not love me and he may or may not care about me more than he cares about himself. "What about the first painting?" I ask thoughtfully, and I'm genuinely curious. "That wasn't exactly horrifying, was it? It was a moment of hope."

He smiles wistfully. "I painted that to remind me it _did _happen. Not that I'd ever forget it."

I feel an unfamiliar feeling. Butterflies. Butterflies in my stomach. And I smile before I can stop myself. So does Peeta.

"Because, like I said, **I don't want to forget," **he adds.

"Neither do I."


End file.
